


Finding Where We Belong

by Abilane_of_Yon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Black Tie Event, Blood Kink, Bondage, Casual Sex, Cuckolding, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Fred Weasley Lives, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Heavy BDSM, Hermione Granger Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Knifeplay, M/M, Master/Slave, Multi, POV Fred Weasley, POV Hermione Granger, Party, Porn With Plot, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Fred Weasley, Rope Bondage, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Voyeurism, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25745173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abilane_of_Yon/pseuds/Abilane_of_Yon
Summary: A horribly shocking surprise leads to what turns out to be reunions and much more pleasant surprises than Hermione could have possibly thought of. One of which could mean finding her true self and discovering her home. Is it possible that is a BDSM club that adorns familiar faces?Tags to be added.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 32
Kudos: 83





	1. The Invitation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies, Abilane of Yon here! Ultimate tasked me with introducing this to all of ya’ll, so here I go. About a week ago she came into our chat after a group of fremione shippers had contacted her about the ship needing kinked up a notch. We both love fremione, so we started brainstorming. She ended up roping me into actually writing it with her instead. We’re going to try to cover as many kinks as we can, as well as give you a little more of a glimpse into the actual world of BDSM from two people that are at least somewhat involved in it. Gonna come out and say Fred and Hermione may seem a little bit OOC in places. Mostly because the war would have affected them. Hermione has PTSD, Fred is a little more cynical. That’s okay. They’re not the same characters we grew up with, and we want to illustrate that. Hermione and Fred are still there, they’re just a little different. Ultimate is going to be writing from Hermione’s POV, while I’m going to be writing from Fred’s. 
> 
> Now for a little warning. There is a bloodplay scene involved. It is not detailed, but I always like to give a little extra warning when writing something like that. It’s pretty obvious where it is, so if it bothers you, please, either back out or skip it.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/189190041@N05/50193453722/in/dateposted-public/)

Hermione huffed attempting to put her hair up into some form of bun, hoping it wouldn’t look like a rat’s nest. It really was pointless, but it was worth a try for a supposedly formal event. Reluctantly she settled for a low bun as she continued getting ready. She didn't particularly enjoy dressing fancy considering the amount of work it always took. 

The evening dress she chose for the chillier night of an early autumn was simple enough. A darker distressed denim blue with a weathered texture to it. She thought it would help offset all the matte or glossy black robes and other dresses that were sure to be worn. It was just a bonus the texture seemed to compliment her bushy hair. 

It also complimented her curves with an implied fabric belt around the waist that had a square silver inlay representing a buckle. Complete with black gem centered on her midsection. While she felt a bit self conscious she also enjoyed it. Especially the squared neckline and sleeves that made her feel more modest. Formal. It was a black tie event after all. 

Hermione pulled the long sleeves down again making sure everything was in place. While she could have just worn a glamour to cover her horrible mudblood scar for some reason it felt safer with fabric. Glamours could drop but someone wouldn't dare try yanking up her sleeves. 

Checking herself in the mirror, Hermione decided it would do. She just wanted to get it over with in any way. Anything to get Cormac to finally leave her alone. 

The pain in the ass had begun pursuing her again as they came across each other in the Ministry over the last few years. Having become a lawyer and McLaggen trained curse breaker that occasionally came in as a consultant or evaluator they were in contact more often than she cared for.

Picking her silver half mask with decorative black swirls she frowned. She wasn't exactly keen on the idea of hidden identities, but that's what a masquerade party was all about. Then again maybe the mask would make it easier to hide from Cormac if she wanted to. With that mindset she slipped it on with hope. 

The deal was that she would go to whatever party this was with him and if she had a good time they would do it again. If not he would have to finally quit offering to take her out or sending her notes and flowers. It was worth an hour or so of her time because she didn't see how she was bound to enjoy a party full of masked strangers gathering for some unknown reason. Maybe if she was lucky she would even make it home before her favorite programing.

The enveloped invitation he had given her started to shake on her dresser. It was a port key that would take her to the party. A highly exclusive location he had said which is why an address wasn't allowed to be given to any new attendees. She was putting a lot of trust in the man that was a thorn in her side but having checked it over by both herself and the transportation department in the Ministry it was concluded to be just an ordinary port key charmed to the recipient's touch specifically. 

As the sealed parchment began jumping   
Hermione grabbed it despite the lingering anxiety. Then she felt the uncomfortable pull in her navel of the port key invitation tugging her to it’s arranged destination. Trying not to get sick as she swirled she began going through a list of plausible curses for the other Gryffindor.   
  
XXXXXXXXX  
  
Hermione landed on her feet surprisingly easily although still feeling dizzy. It had been a while since she had traveled by port key, but it got easier each time. She remembered the day the Diggory's and Mr.Weasley had walked out of the sky for the Quidditch World Cup. That was the goal she wanted to achieve. 

When she opened her eyes the dizziness slowly eased as they came into focus on her surroundings. It was some kind of elaborate foyer. White marble with double stairs on each side of the room. A dark brown double door adorned the middle in front of her while there seemed to be two smaller doors on opposite ends. 

A few people were lingering about chatting. All masked and dressed just as she was. The two men were in black suits and a pale woman in a deep green. Then there was another pop to her left that startled her. Two women arm in arm, and in matching purple gowns popped into the air beside her, apparently arriving by port key as well. They walked straight for the doors without hesitantly talking together. 

Hermione looked around uncertain if she should ask the group of people what she needed to do, follow the witches, or just wait off to the side and hope Cormac would find her. The thought of actually wanting that alone moved her forward albeit cautiously. She wasn't exactly sure what she was walking into after all. The double door had hardly opened enough for her to see anything besides the outline of a few people. 

Putting on her bravery despite a flutter of nerves she followed the witches. Randomly talking didn’t sound appealing at the moment. However when she reached the doors and they opened up the slightest bit for her, she was surprised at the sheer number of people. There had to be close to four dozen. Everyone was quietly mingling amongst themselves.

Suddenly a man with a simple, completely matte and undetailed mask in a black on black suit appeared next to her with a tray of glasses in his hand. “Attendee or participant?” he asked. 

“Uhh….attendee?” she answered. What kind of participants did the party have? Cormac hadn’t said anything about a show. 

The man bowed lightly. “All attendees are allowed a maximum of three drinks. We have champagne brut, and a fresh brew of elven cherry wine.” 

Hermione saw a fair number of people had drinks in their hands, but it didn’t sound appealing at all in an unfamiliar environment alone. “No thank you,” she said. Again the man bowed lightly and continued on his way around the room. 

Considering how elaborate the entryway was and how large the expanse of the room seemed to be, the witch concluded she was in some form of mansion. In her mind she went through the list of families she knew with houses this large. It wasn’t Malfoy Manor at least she thought. 

Glancing around she saw no sign of the annoyance she had expected to be right on her from the beginning. There was a mixture of relief and unease but she began weaving through the crowd in attempts to find him or something. Anything. However all she was met with was masked faces. Perhaps she should have told Cormac what she had planned to wear. 

Then Hermione stopped in her tracks hearing completely unexpected and highly inappropriate sounds. There were moans, the random low but seemingly happy cry of a number, and the sound of skin slapping skin. A blush rose on her own cheeks but still she moved through the crowd. The noise only got louder until she halted in her tracks seeing through the bodies that had dispersed a little more away from each other and had grown quieter. 

Killing Cormac was the first thing that ran through her head. Hermione hadn’t known what to expect, but what was in front of her she never would have imagined as a possibility. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was seeing or where she was but it was clear what the participants meant. 

People were having sex in plain sight of everyone. Many people flat out watching them like it was the most normal thing in the world. Hermione on the other hand looked away but when she did further down the wall she saw another set up. While what she had first witnessed was simply naked woman sitting on man’s exposed lap, considering his pants were around his ankles, rocking back and forth while another man stood just off to the side watching. His own pants undone just enough for everyone to see he was stroking his erection. Eyes had been fixated on the couple engaging. 

The other set up however was much more shocking. Another naked woman was tied up in front of people. Oddly placed and what appeared to be an intricate design of ropes. Her arms were behind her back, ropes crossing her torso and causing her breasts to stand out, legs spread and bent up. Calves and her thighs tied together to keep them in place. 

Hermione swallowed thickly watching the equally naked man that was holding some of the rope pounding into her vagina. They were the slapping of skin. She tried to avert her eyes from where his cock was entering her over and over again, but they were stuck on the sight. That was until someone next to her spoke about the man still stroking his cock. It snapped her out of her inappropriate staring and she moved down the opposite direction of the people having sex. 

Thankfully even the participants were masked because she had no clue how she could look someone in the face after watching them having sex especially in public. While she enjoyed sex she couldn’t very well say she was very experienced on the subject or comfortable with it. Despite her young age she hadn’t participated in the activity much due to not pursuing relationships in favor of work. 

Going the other way though proved to be just as bad. She was regretting coming at all and wondered how much more Cormac nagging she was willing to endure to leave as quickly as possible. Her face was incredibly hot under the mask. Although not as hot as the man’s ass had to be that was a painful red. 

Hermione watched with a dry throat again, eyes stuck on the shocking sight as a woman’s hand came down and smacked the naked man’s bum. It caused him to moan out loud. She let out a stuttered breath feeling completely uncomfortable and to her horror slightly aroused. Backing away she saw an opening in the surplus of people and made her way to it hoping to gather herself and some fresh air that didn’t smell of body heat or sex.  
  
Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes in the open space by a stone pillar. Wringing her hands together Hermione gathered herself. Was she at an orgy? Everyone was separate though and it didn’t seem like the right term. Sex club seemed to fit it better. How in the name of Merlin could Cormac invite her here? What did he think it would achieve? Why was everyone so formal when they all, or well okay a few, were having sex so casually? 

As questions raced through her mind she let out the breath she was holding, but it allowed her ears to hone in on the sound of more sexual noises being made closer to her. Mewls and cries and Hermione couldn’t even describe more. What else could people possibly be doing? How many people were willingly having sex among a crowd? Even more shocking at a black tie event. 

Licking her lips she studied the large drawn black curtain near her which is where all the new noises were coming from. Her heart raced watching a few smiling faces exit it. Curiosity started growing and despite her better judgement she slowly followed it forwards. The noises got louder and Hermione knew it was more people having sex. Still curiosity got the better of her. 

With a hesitant hand she pulled back the curtain barrier and stepped through it in one go. Afraid if she only peaked she would appear creepy and also lose her nerve. There weren't as many people in the area as there was in the main section but she knew why. She herself could hardly believe the sight before her eyes as it froze her in place. 

XXXXXXXXXX

It had been a good night so far in Fred's opinion. He had gotten the opportunity to reconnect with some of his old friends, and he had gotten to observe some of the potential newcomers to the club. Observe was the important word there, since it was literally what Lay had asked him to do for the evening. He was pretty skilled at reading people. He had to be, to know what his customers may want in a product after all. 

  
With so many people on the floor tonight, they needed extra eyes. Making sure nobody did anything stupid, making sure the newcomers weren’t pressured into anything, and immediately get Lay if a new dominant started to act up. Their members wouldn’t be a problem of course, but some of the newcomers might be. His other job was to escort anyone that felt uncomfortable outside immediately, and provide them with any form of help they needed. Lay had even given them a temporary portkey to pack that would lead them straight out to the back garden. It was beautiful and peaceful to gather yourself in. 

  
This was especially important for Fred and Neville. The younger Gryffindor was the other junior dungeon master stationed with him. They were both stationed in the advanced room. It was behind a partition made of black curtains, and the area wasn’t for the fair of heart. 

  
These demonstrations were some of the more difficult or dangerous acts, and for any involving bodily fluids that weren’t a normal byproduct of sex. They wanted all the newcomers to understand what these terms were, but they also wanted them to understand that these things weren’t to be jumped into lightly. Except for the watersports scene. That was mostly because it was just an easier cleanup here though. Unlike the other area, which was much larger, they were only able to put on one demonstration at a time. Which was fine with Fred since it gave him time in between to check in on the crowd. 

  
The first two scenes had gone fine. First of which was a caning. A couple of people had popped in, but then decided to gracefully back out. Nobody had started panicking or looking ill at the sight of things though. 

  
He had to admit, even he got a little nervous at how quickly Pansy’s skin had darkened. However her Dom, Conner, had been checking in frequently with her. It was a punishment, but thirty strikes with a cane was serious business. Conner was a fair Dom, and wouldn’t have been overly disappointed if he needed to cut it short. Pansy, instead of backing out, had proudly called out each strike, complete with apologies. Even though the last few were through tears, she didn’t let her voice waver until she had eked out her final apology. Conner gave her about thirty seconds of calmly whispering to her, before he had scooped her up to take her to the backstage area. That was where he could provide any medical attention, and see to her aftercare. 

  
The second scene was for watersports. A visiting Dominatrix and her submissive had agreed to help with a demonstration, and the act was one of their favorites. The submissive had laid flat on a tarp while his Dominatrix urinated all over him, hissing at him about how hard he was because of it. Calling him her little sissy boy slut while he jerked himself off. Drinking her urine as he came, and then proceeding to lap up anything that had gotten onto the tarp. Finishing his task, he had begged his Mistress to please allow him to clean her up. She willingly allowed his head between her legs, only letting him a few precious seconds until she pushed him away. Curtsying to the crowd, she gathered the leash on her submissive’s collar. He obediently crawled behind her, gazing lovingly towards her.

  
Their cleaning crew quickly went to work after that by scourgifying and rolling up the used tarp. They may be wixen capable of great feats of magic, but Lay was still a half-blood. He insisted tarps, bedding, and anything cloth be washed the muggle way as well. That’s why they used mostly leather furniture. The cleanup was easier.   
Fred had to admit, he was a bit jealous of the two pairs as he watched them perform. He knew he wasn’t ready for anything truly serious, but he was getting tired of having a different partner every week. Unfortunately for him, most of the women at the club were either taken, or not interested seeing just a single Dom. He wasn’t ready to settle down and give up his gallivanting ways completely, but he would be okay with a monogamish friends with benefits type arrangement. 

  
Adjusting his back against the wall Fred scanned the crowd while they waited for the next act. No one seemed to be overly freaked out at what they were displaying. The crowd was mostly members just wanting to take in the show, but there were a few guests mixed in. Some of them even seemed pleasantly turned on from the displays. He caught Neville’s eyes across the way, nodding when he gave a thumbs up symbol. The crew was done with the stage, and had prepped the tarp for the next show. More than likely it wasn’t necessary, but they wanted to be on the safe side. Lay had decided to take this display on himself. He didn’t make mistakes when there was a knife involved, and was the best for the job. 

  
It was by far the scene that had Fred worried the most. Not because Lay would make a mistake, but because he knew how some people reacted to blood. Watching sharp objects being pressed into another person’s skin. Fred had almost refused to participate in the event because of it, but Lay had agreed to make a short statement before the scene to warn the crowd about what type of display he was doing. 

  
Lay led Melina, his slave, out in a beautiful green evening gown and matching mask. She demurely turned around, lifting her hair so he could unzip her dress, before allowing it to pool at her feet. Divested of her clothes, she walked to the St Andrew’s cross that had been erected. Placing her arms against the wood, waiting patiently for her Master to secure her wrists in place. She kept her head bowed the entire time, ignoring the crowd in front of her. Silent as a mouse, as she would be until they stepped off the stage. Just like Lay had told her to before the show. Fred glanced at the curtains, making sure no one new would step through until properly warned. He shifted his gaze back to the stage when nothing seemed amiss. 

  
Moving to the cross Lay secured Melina’s wrists in the cuffs, whispering to her. Fred knew he was reminding her what he was going to do. Running her through the scene one last time. It was what Lay always did when they did a blood play scene in public. He walked in with a plan on what cuts he was going to make on her body, and he made sure she knew what that plan was. Slight variations were sometimes made as he worked, but for the most part he stayed true to form. It was what made him a good Master, and a good mentor. Melina nodded once so he would know she heard him and understood, and only then did Lay turn to finally address the crowd. 

  
“Hello, and welcome to the Arcane Hydra! I am your host for the night Master Lay,” the man said cheerfully inclining his head slightly. “This next demonstration is on the topic of blood play. It will involve a properly sterilized knife that I will be cutting into my slave’s skin with.” 

  
Lay gestured to his side where Melina stood waiting against the cross. “This is a scene she has agreed to, and has not been coerced into. Her safe word for this scene is Caterpillar. She of course is able to use her safe word at any time. I will immediately stop, remove her from the St Andrew’s cross she is currently on, provide immediate medical attention if needed, and then take her backstage to finish healing her and deal with any other needs she may have.” 

  
Fred watched as the man looked around their smalI crowd with a smile.

  
“I am professionally trained in healing magic,” he continued. “,and am able to provide her with any necessary attention. If this scene will at all make you uncomfortable, I ask that you please leave now. Like her, you are able to leave at any time, and if you feel the need to, I encourage you to. You will not be judged for leaving.” Lay’s voice was reassuring and he waited a moment to give everyone the opportunity to leave but no one seemed bothered. “Now, if you’re ready, I will begin,” he finished. Moving to the table next to Melina he removed the knife from its casing before turning to her.

  
Fred took in the first few marks Lay left on his slave before turning once more to the curtain. His eyebrows rose with slight surprise when he saw a witch about his age in a silver mask with black swirls. She wasn't coming or going. Just standing a foot inside the area. 

  
It took him a moment before he realized she was gripping her left arm with her right hand. Her eyes were wide behind the mask, and it looked as if the witch was shaking. He furrowed his brow, and took her in one more time. She seemed vaguely familiar. Height. Posture. Structure. Her hair was a little too bushy like Hermiones…. 

  
Fred felt worry wash over him when it hit him. Oh Merlin, who the FUCK gave Hermione Granger an invitation to this event? I’m going to pummel whoever decided that was a good idea. Any members who were really friends would have KNOWN not to let her back here right now. 

  
Racing to her side Fred grabbed her and turned her into his chest so she couldn’t watch anymore. Quickly touching the portkey bracelet Lay had given him he took them to the garden in a swirl. The second they were on the ground, Hermione fell to her knees and scrambled away from him, hyperventilating as she went. 

  
“Hermione. Hermione, it’s me,” he removed his mask and tossed it to the ground so she could see. “It’’s Fred. Look at me. I’m not going to hurt you,” he tried to reassure her in a way that would get her to really look at him. “You’re okay, you’re at the Arcane Hydra that's all. You’re not in any danger I promise. You’re okay Hermione. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. You’re with me.” 

  
The witch continued to shake, shaking her head back and forth at him. “Th-h-here w-w-w-was a knife. H-h-h-he w-w-was c-c-c-ut-t-ting her,” she stuttered out, trying to explain what she saw. Fred nodded, slowly moving towards her, reaching his hand out to just barely touch hers. Letting her physically feel he was here with her. 

  
“I know love, I know. You shouldn’t have been there,” he told her. His anger was still boiling that someone had invited her and let her roam as far as into the advanced area as she had. “Someone should have warned you what was behind that curtain, and I’m sorry I didn’t catch you coming through before you saw that,” he apologized. “That man wasn't hurting her like you think though. He had her consent. She’s not going to be actually hurt. He is going to heal her before anything can scar. I can even make sure you see her once they’re done cleaning up. She’s going to be fine, I promise you,” Fred told her. He continued to inch closer to her, until he was able to slowly encourage her into a hug so she could rest against his chest again. Tight, like he remembered Hermione needed after the war. 

  
After everything that had happened caught up with them the witch had sewed a special blanket for herself to help ground her if she had a panic attack and was alone. The pressure helped her calm back down, at least if he was remembering correctly. It had been a while since they really saw one another. 

  
Fred was happy when he gradually felt her stop shaking, letting her relax further into his embrace. He cleared his throat before talking again. “Now, I don’t know about you, but the ground is cold, and there’s a nice comfortable settee over there with warming charms on it. Can I get us over there?” he asked softly. Hermione nodded into his chest after a second, and gently he scooped her into his arms letting him carry her over to the settee. He got comfortable and allowed her to continue to hide in his chest. Looking at the stars, he wondered once again who gave her the invitation. Thinking about how many products in the shop could be used as payback. All of them, he concluded. He’d throw the whole lot at them. 

  
Looking back down at the witch Fred sighed. He had considered asking her here a couple times over the years. Anyone paying attention could see how absolutely stressed she always was between work and her other obligations. The thought of a place where she didn’t have to worry about anything would be perfect for her. However he had stopped himself while she was dating Ron, and then after it just seemed awkward to invite his little brother’s ex to a sex club. Now, he wasn’t sure if she’d want to return or even entertain the idea for a second. She could be absolutely traumatized and the thought of that hurt him. 

  
. “I promise you, we’re not all into knives. Lay and Mel are kind of the exceptions to that rule,” he said lightly. “The rest of us are into the more mundane things. Ropes, spanking, Dom/sub. That type of stuff. It’s not all black cloaks and daggers. Promise.” Hermione actually glared up at him after the pretty poor excuse for a joke. At least it appeared like she’d gotten back to herself at least a little. Good. 

  
“That’s all….well and good Fred Weasley,” her voice still a bit hesitant. “...but that doesn’t answer one question I have. What are you doing here?” He recognized the tone as the one she used when she was interrogating witnesses, the one that brooked no arguments. 

  
Fred frowned at the question all the same. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake when he told Hermione exactly what’s on his mind. “I’m here because I’m a member of the club. Several of the people we went to school with are. I won’t name names, but you probably know a good third of the people inside without realizing it.” Again, there was that glare. Fred shook his head at her, trying to think of how to explain why he was there. “A lot of us started coming in the first couple of years after the war,” he told her. “It’s like an escape. Where you don’t have to be child soldiers or worry about where your wand is at all times. You get to just be and enjoy yourself without pressure. Our wax specialist is so much better at explaining this than I am,” he grumbled the last line.

  
Hermione looked up at him confused. “Wax?” 

  
Fred nodded, “Wax. She’s absolutely fantastic at it. She drips wax off a lit candle onto the body. Almost like she is painting it. Better than anything I can do for sure. I tried it and almost burnt myself trying to get the right consistency. Candles and I don’t mix. Not hands on enough.” 

  
Hermione raised an eyebrow at the statement. She was still snuggled close to him, but slowly he could see that light returning to her eyes, like she wanted to know everything that was going on inside. Wanting to know what exactly in the hell she had walked into. “Well then, what is it you do exactly?” Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, almost as if trying to figure out the enigma that was half of the Weasley twins. Trying to figure out where he had changed between now and when she and Ron had broken up. 

  
“Bondage and Domination, mostly,” he shrugged. “Some sensation play, a little bit of exhibitionism. I’ve tried quite a bit more, and seen even more demonstrations than that, but those are always the big ones I come back to. Something about trussing up a witch, her letting me take control, best feeling in the world,” and he couldn't help the sigh of happiness the feeling brought him. “Better than flying I admit. Better sometimes than pranks even.” Quizzically Hermione looked at him, once again trying to figure out the puzzle. 

  
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so serious about something for so long. Normally by this point in a conversation you’d have cracked a dozen jokes at my expense,” she finally moved a little farther away from him as she spoke. As if scared about what he might do.

  
“I grew up, Hermione. Got a little more serious; a little more cynical. Happens to the best of us when you’ve been drafted at the age of seventeen for a war you didn’t really sign up for. You’d know better about that than all of us put together though. You were drafted at eleven,” he pointed out, noting the look that crossed her face at that. Apparently she didn’t think of it that way.

  
“The prankster is still here, but I can be serious when I need to be. Like now. Unless you want me to turn your hair purple and your skin pink. I think I’ve got some tonic in a pocket somewhere that would do that to you,” he offered with a smile. “Won’t wear off for at least a day.” Finally, finally, Fred got a giggle out of her. A smile. That slow, almost timid smile she’d use when she wasn’t sure about anything. 

  
Just at that moment, he felt a buzz against his wrist. Apparently Lay and Melina knew what had happened and were ready to talk


	2. Let's Have a Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again my smut muffins! This UltimateUndesirable! This chapter we clarify things for people, and hopefully clarify things for people like Hermione. Give a little insight into it, but next chapter is when we start diving deeper into learning! Hope you enjoy!

Fred escorted Hermione through the solarium, into the side entrance of Lay’s office. This was the way to their private quarters. He knew she wouldn’t be comfortable going back through the party, and this was the only other way through to Lay’s sitting room. 

  
Already he could tell this was going to turn into one of Melina’s projects, which always involved her serving tea. Always tea. Melina, bless her soul, had grown up in the east end in London. She had grown up poor, the oldest of four brothers and sisters. They had been poorer even than his family when she was growing up. 

  
Melina didn’t look a thing like a poverty stricken girl from Poplar anymore though. Her poise was that of any pureblood witch. She had had to learn how to blend in to survive in Slytherin house. A lowly muggle born witch didn’t stand a chance unless she was impeccably behaved. She even spoke with a perfectly posh accent. Still she spoke fondly of her neighbors though, always slipping into the cockney accent she had tried hard to forget when she wasn’t paying attention. 

  
No matter what though the witch couldn’t forget the poverty she had grown up in, and that included copious amounts of tea, well sugared of course, when one was stressed. Occasionally she’d add a dab of condensed milk. Fred still didn’t understand what it was. All he knew was that it was disgusting in tea. 

  
Leading Hermione into the sitting room, Fred watched as Melina poured them four cups of tea. The perfect amount, a dollop of condensed milk in hers, and in the one directly across from her. Quickly he nabbed the seat without the milk, picking up the sugared brew before Melina could get her claws on his cup. He’d take his tea without, thank you very much. She smirked at that, knowing how much he hated the sweet milk she’d pour in her cup. Ah, so Melina was officially off duty. Good to know. 

  
“Neville filled us in on what happened after we got off stage. I’m so sorry you had to see that Hermione. I hope it doesn’t change what you thought about the club. Of course, that’s why we asked you back here tonight. We wanted to make sure you were okay enough for Fred to escort you home, and to answer any questions you may have.” Melina delicately raised her cup to her lips, ever the picture perfect lady. It was honestly endearing, to everyone in the club. The perfect queen to their little kingdom of depravity.

  
Hermione meanwhile, was just staring into her tea. As if it would give her the answers she sought. She slowly took a sip of her tea, taking all the time she needed to answer. Fred saw her face the second she realized there was something extra in her tea. He was surprised though when instead of disgust, the witch said “this tastes exactly like how my grandmother used to make tea for me when I was sick.”

  
Melina smiled at that. “Ah, she must have been from Poplar too. I remember it fondly. Some habits are harder to break than others though, and carnation in my tea is one of them.” 

  
“She lived there during the Blitz, as a girl,” and with that, Hermione was officially wrapped around Melina’s little finger. They talked idly for a few minutes about Hogwarts and Hermione’s childhood in London. Hermione relaxed even further at the idle chit chat. It was as if they had been friends for years. Like Melina was an aunt Hermione could go to when she couldn’t talk to her mum. 

  
It wasn’t until Lay walked in that the mood turned…well, not exactly darker. Maybe more solemn. More serious. Like they were handling a serious infraction. Which, in Lay’s mind, they probably were. 

  
He crossed the room to take his seat next to Melina, carefully giving himself a wide berth around Hermione so he didn’t spook her. Melina, for her part, acted as if nothing was amiss. Just reached her hand out for his as he passed, smiling up at him as if he was her entire world. Showing Hermione that he was safe, that he wouldn’t hurt either of them.

The only reason Fred noticed is that years of observing people paid off. He could tell Melina was hamming it up just the tiniest bit. Not enough to spook Hermione, but enough that the witch would notice the way Melina relaxed around Lay. 

  
“Hermione, this is Samuel Layrn, but around here he goes by Master Lay. He runs everything, right from membership down to organizing nights like tonight. Everyone around here either calls him Master Lay or Sir. Well…except for the other Doms,” Fred added. “We call him Lay.” He just couldn’t help throwing in the last bit, with a cheeky grin. The older Dom hated the nickname the younger set had given him.

  
“No thanks to you Fred Weasley,” the other man said without any real hint of true annoyance. “I told you lot to call me Sam, and everyone was fine with that until the day you and your brother started coming around. I don’t know what came over me, letting a pair of trouble makers like you into the club.” Lay got comfortable as the introductions were made, sinking back into the couch and throwing an arm around his wife. Once again she was smiling lovingly back up at him, snuggling into his side. She needed to be cuddled as much as Hermione needed to see that they were very much comfortable with each other.

  
Lay cleared his throat, before looking directly at Hermione. “I am sorry you had such a fright. We didn’t want anything like that to happen to any of our guests tonight. That really isn’t a normal introduction to the club.”

  
“I do have a few questions about…” Hermione started. “..well….about everything I saw honestly. Fred told me you two are in an arrangement, but I guess I just don’t understand why someone would want things like that to happen to them. Why you would want anyone to control you.” 

  
Hermione began to bite her lip at her own questions. Like she was trying to puzzle them out on her own. Fred reached over to idly rub a thumb along the back of her palm. He didn’t notice it at first, but she began to truly relax at the attention.

  
Melina chuckled. “I don’t let him control me dear. You’ve got everything mixed up. Sam and I are in a mutually beneficial relationship. He has a list of things he can never do to me, we have safe words in place, and we have times where the both of us are just completely free to be Sam and Mel. Like right now for instance,” she said gesturing lightly between her and Lay. “Right now we’re Sam and Mel, instead of Master and slave.”

  
“But isn’t that what a relationship is supposed to be all the time? Aren’t you supposed to just be Sam and Mel all the time?” The two exchanged a look. In an instant, it was decided. 

  
“Hermione, this isn’t us, or it isn’t all of us at least. Before I met Sam, I didn’t really understand who I was. I knew I liked things…rougher than the other girls in my year did. I just didn’t understand that I needed to be able to give up control,” the older witch tried to explain. “ I need someone to tell me what to do when we’re in the bedroom, and now in the entire house. He doesn’t tell me what to do at my job, or at all on Sundays. When I’m home from work, though, I get to give him everything I am. That, Hermione….that is beautiful to me.” Melina’s voice radiated fondness and happiness. “I am no less for it, just as he is no less for wanting to take that control. I still have final say though. I can say when it stops.” 

  
At that, the witch once again turned to her husband, enamored with him. It was always the same with those two. Always aware of where the other was at all times, and they almost always had eyes on each other.

  
“Then why give up control at all?” Fred couldn’t quite place a finger on it, but it was as if Hermione was blushing. As if she had already thought about this before.

  
“Are you asking why I do it,” she asked looking pointedly at him before looking at Hermione more gently, “...or are you asking why you want to, Hermione? I’ve been around the block a time or two, and I’ve been a mentor to my fair share of submissives. I know what one looks like when they’re frightened of what they’re feeling.” Melina dropped the sunny attitude, giving way to the much more serious one she put on when teaching a clinic. “Hermione, we give up control purely because we like it. Tell me, what were you feeling when you went through the front room?”

  
The quizzical look on Hermione’s face returned. As if the puzzle was just getting harder. “Well, embarrassed, of course. I didn’t realize when I was invited that it was a sex party.”

  
This time, it was Lay who asked a question, “Underneath the embarrassment. What were you thinking underneath that?”

  
Hermione blanched at that, blushing clearly and furiously a moment later. Apparently something had struck a chord in the witch. “The…um, the ropes. Whatever that scene was. It was…well to put it plainly I wanted to know what exactly it felt like. To be tied up like that.”

  
Fred could appreciate the draw of the ropes. It was what had gotten him into the club in the first place. He and George were pretty much self-taught when it came to Shibari. They had wanted a place where they could learn more, and where they could practice hands on. Now the two of them were the best riggers in the entire club. There was just something special about someone letting you tie them up.  
  
Melina, meanwhile, smiled at that. “I thought so. After all, if you had been truly put off, you wouldn’t have gotten close enough to the curtain to stumble across our scene. The second you walked in here I knew I was right.”

  
Hermione scoffed, an incredulous tone creeping into her voice, “You could tell that just from a single interaction?”

  
“Oh my dear, I could see myself in you, before Sam finally sunk his hooks in me for good. You are so pent up you are ready to explode all over everyone. You need to be able to release yourself somewhere. The bedroom may just be the right place for you. To that end, we had a proposition for you. To let you really see what this whole place is really about.” Melina waved a hand, and a stack of papers began slowly moving towards her outstretched palm.

  
Lay continued where his wife left off. “Our proposition really is a simple one. We think you would be a good fit for this club, just not yet. You need some experience with someone who has been doing this awhile, but someone you’d be comfortable with. Fred here has expressed his desire to potentially train someone one on one before, and we think the two of you would be a good fit. You would be a probationary member of the club. You would be expected to come to at least one open night a month, with Fred of course. You would also be expected to check in with your mentor at least once a month, and preferably more than that. Melina has volunteered for that,” he smiled. “...though in your paperwork we have included a list of other submissives in the club that would be experienced enough to provide an adequate mentor. In case you’d be more comfortable with another person as your mentor,” the man added lastly.

  
At that Hermione and Fred looked at each other, discreetly moving farther away from each other. Yes, Fred had talked to Lay about potentially seeking a one on one arrangement, and maybe even training a submissive if one came along. Yes, he had once had a crush on the girl next to him, but this was not the time to go pursuing the witch. If there ever would be a time to pursue her. She was his brother’s ex after all. 

  
“Lay, I don’t think that’s a good idea mate. Maybe we should table this for another night,” he suggested.

  
“Oh, so you wouldn’t be interested in training me Fred Weasley?” Hermione asked him, and he was actually startled at the glare he was receiving.

  
“It’s not that Hermione. Of course I’d be interested. It’s just that after tonight it would probably be a good idea for you to take some time to think things through.” He cringed at how very much that sounded like an excuse. Everything about the witch next to him had him off his game.

  
“Of course Hermione should take some time to think about it Fred. That’s why we compiled this packet for her before we called you two back. She has a week to think it over, before she has to give us an answer,” with that Melina handed the stack of papers to Hermione. “Of course, even if you say no now, you can always revisit this anytime in the future. The offer may change, but we’d still love to have you Hermione. Now,” she said a bit motherly like. “I think it’s time for Fred to take you home.”

  
With that, the four of them said their goodbyes. Fred couldn’t help but hope she’d just let him deposit her as quietly as possible at home. Of course, he couldn’t get that lucky.

  
**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

  
Hermione's head was still racing with questions as Fred and her exited the building. It had been quite an eventual two hours. Sure Melina and this Master Lay had answered some of her questions; however it only left her with many more. Not even just about them and their 'scene’ as they called it.

  
The whole conversation had led to more curiosity than the witch had felt in a long time. There was so much to try and grasp about what she had seen and heard. One of the first things coming to mind though was why Fred actually went to the club? Was he looking for some kind of release outside of the obvious physical one? 

  
Then there was what Melina had said about finding herself there. Comparing them like they shared many traits, which Hermione had to admit after their fun little chat over tea they did. How were they similar enough though that the other witch could see herself in her? Could she find herself there like she had? 

  
Hermione furrowed her brows. Was there even anything else to find out about herself? She knew who she was, and she knew what she had to do in life. Wanted to do mostly; granted she wasn’t making much progress in a lot of justice. Then there were things she liked to do sometimes like knitting when she was watching her telly and not reading. Sure being a bloody lawyer took up a large chunk of time, but it didn't mean she didn't like other things. Perhaps there was more she could explore though.

  
“Alright I can practically hear your brain turning,” Fred said with what sounded like a sigh from beside her. “What's going on in there?” 

  
“Nothing,” she said in reflex. Glancing over though she saw Fred looking at her with a disbelieving raised eyebrow. It caused her slump in defeat. “Fine. I just....still a lot of questions I suppose.”

  
Fred nodded his head slowly seeming to understand. “Fair enough. Been quite a shocker tonight I’d say. I’m sure you have a lot to churn over in that head of yours.” Then the man chuckled unexpectedly based on his more quiet tone. “Can I expect you to have a mountain of books towering over your table tomorrow on the subject?” 

  
“Maybe,” Hermione replied with a smile. Books hadn’t got to her mind just yet, but of course she knew she would find some of the information she sought in them.

  
“Uhh….there are books back at the club about all kinds of BDSM if you want me to borrow some,” he offered. “With the offer on the table from Lay I’m sure he and Melina would be more than happy to let you. Especially after I put my voucher in for you and your book addiction.”

  
Hermione smacked him playfully on the arm but actually thought about it for a second. Somewhere inside her she was already really considering Melina and Master Lay’s offer. Fred’s semi offer. However it was still a foreign concept, and would take what felt like an absurd amount of self confidence for something so personal. She would need to do a lot of analyzing the pro’s and con’s while understanding what she was potentially getting herself into. There was always the option to just go into the muggle libraries and look for stuff but magical vs non magic was likely to be different. 

  
“That actually would be helpful,” she said, feeling a bit better about some easily available research material. The more she thought about it checking out books about sexual activities sounded a bit daunting. Muggles weren’t very open about sex at all. They would probably look at her like she was depraved. 

Fred looked over his shoulder back towards the building that had grown smaller. She wasn’t sure where they were walking to exactly. No doubt an apparition point. 

  
“How about I just owl them later?” he suggested. “Don’t fancy walking back, and into the party at the moment.” 

  
“That sounds perfect. Thank you,” she said, feeling her curiosity really starting to spike at what the books could hold. Hopefully they would answer a lot more of the mindsets on top of the….mechanics and things she had seen. “I’m sure they will answer most of my questions.”

  
“Remember though,” he said as he encouraged her into a dimly lit alley off to her right. “Books can only tell or teach you so much. Some things you have to experience or talk about.”

  
Hermione glared at him once again. Advice like that always made her think of divination. Complete rubbish. Fred held out his arm with a smirk as if he knew it, unbothered by her expression though.

  
“What? Don’t want me coming along?” he asked jokingly when she didn’t take it right away. “I can’t say I know exactly where you live, love.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Hey don’t roll your eyes at me,” he chastised her playfully. “Melina’s orders were to see you home. I don’t want her on my arse for not following through.”

  
It wasn’t like she cared about him coming along, but she also didn’t want him to think she was incapable of taking care of herself just because of a panic attack. After the reassurance of being okay from Melina she had started feeling a lot better in that regard. Still the witch understood Fred’s desire to make sure she was alright. 

  
Taking her place by his side, Hermione wrapped her arm around his. Thinking of home she let the squeezing feelings of apparition pop them into existence in front of her flat building. Tall and typical towering brick building amongst the city. 

  
“There. Safe and sound just like everyone wanted,” she said. 

  
Fred looked up at the building, then around them getting his bearings for the area. It probably wasn’t an area of muggle London he was familiar with. Working for the Ministry she had made sure her location was accessible to the place in a short amount of time. 

Letting his eyes linger on the park just down the street, Hermione watched him scuff a trainer against the sidewalk suddenly seeming distracted. It was a similar move that Harry had often made when he wanted to say something he was uncertain of. The action caused her to raise her eyebrows. 

  
“So I do have a question for you if you don’t mind,” the redhead started. “...but how exactly did you end up at the party tonight?” 

  
Hermione huffed heavily. There was a good chance if she could manage it that the bloke was going to be getting a stinging hex next time she saw him. At least outside of the Ministry. Maybe she could fool him into meeting up just for that very purpose. 

  
“Cormac McLaggen invited me,” she told him. Her voice was filled with annoyance. When she said his name aloud a stinging hex sounded like it would be too gentle. “He was a year above me in school. Gryffindor also. As soon as he noticed I worked for the Ministry it was sixth year all over again. Stopping by just to see me at random,” Hermione shook her head distastefully at the clinginess. 

  
“He gave me the portkey Wednesday, and told me what to wear. All he said was it was a party, and he would meet me there. Sure as hell didn't mention anything about it being some sex party.” Fred's eyes seemed to twitch when she finished talking which puzzled her. 

  
“Are you two….dating? Or something?” he asked almost cautiously like the answer was crucial. 

  
Hermione was taken aback by the absurdity. “That's practically an insult Fred! I mean honestly. I only accepted the invite under the deal if we had a good time I would go on another date with him. If not he would leave me the hell alone. I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell I would have a good time with him ever so it was a win win for me. Didn’t realize how right I’d be though or the fact he would stand me up.” 

  
For a few seconds Fred didn't say anything as he seemed to be thinking. The corner of his mouth twisting like there was an internal debate. “Here. How about this. To make up for McLaggen's….” the redhead paused seeming to try, and find the right word before settling on something. “...disrespect, why don't I take you out some day this week. No club, no party, just us having a good time. How does that sound? Better?” 

  
Hermione felt like she should blush, but for some reason she didn't. It felt so normal, natural, and casual the way he said it. She didn't even have to give it much thought aside from trying to think about her work schedule. Going out with someone just for fun wasn’t something she had done in a long time. It sounded like a brilliant idea, especially considering how long the week was probably going to feel.

  
“Wait,” she said suddenly feeling a little self conscious and wanting clarification. She couldn’t even the last time she had been on a date. It had to have been at least two years. Maybe even three. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  
Fred merely shrugged carelessly. “It can be whatever you want it to be.” 

  
Allowing her a little sigh of relief from no pressure she relaxed. “Alright. Um I will send the available times and dates whenever you send the books over. I believe Wednesday and Thursday are short days for me this week.” Again Fred looked at her unbelieving. “Okay shorter than normal,” she said a little dramatically.

  
Fred laughed and before she could protest he wrapped his arms around her pulling her into a squeeze hug with an umph. “Floo me anytime if you need to talk about anything at all, yea?” Hermione nodded into his firm chest, and maybe it was her imagination but she could have sworn she felt him lightly kiss the top of her bushy hair. He stepped back though not letting anything linger longer than average. 

  
“Night Hermione,” the man smiled with a half wave goodbye before disapparating with a pop. 

  
Hermione stared at the spot the redhead had just disappeared from, then shivered in the colder autumn air of night after feeling his warmth. She couldn’t help but scratch her head where her bun was coming loose and she thought he had kissed her. All her senses felt heightened as her mind turned.

  
The night had been nothing like she had planned or prepared for at all. It was strange to say the least, and she wasn’t sure how much weirder things could have gotten. Maybe it was the shake up she needed in her routine known as life. There was the potential for a little fun with that. Especially if Fred Weasley was involved.

**Author's Note:**

> You are free to add Ultimate Undesirable's authors account on Facebook, Rayne Undesirable, for snippets, general fanfic/HP meme sharing, new fic link sharing, recommendations, and it is where you can nag me. It is purely a fanfic focused account.


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